Far Too Young To Die
by xxDustNight88
Summary: They say that opposites attract, but is that the case for Draco and Harry? The light calls to Draco, while darkness lurks just below the surface for Harry. In the end, will light or darkness prevail? *A Death by Quill Story: Round Two*


**Author's Note:** This story was written for Round Two of the Slytherin Cabal's Death by Quill Writing Challenge. It took 8th place during that second round which was justtttt enough to move me to Round Three! Enjoy! xxDustNight

 **Disclaimer:** All non-original characters, plot points, and information belong to J.K. Rowling. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. The cover photo is made from pictures I found on Google. I do not write for profit. Also, thank you to starrnobella for beta-reading and cheering me on while I wrote my first Drarry!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 _Far Too Young To Die_  
Rated: M  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
Summary: They say that opposites attract, but is that the case for Draco and Harry? The light calls to Draco, while darkness lurks just below the surface for Harry. In the end, will light or darkness prevail?  
Song Recommendation: Far Too Young To Die by Panic! At The Disco  
Trigger Warnings: Dark, Angst, Character Death, Sectumsempra  
Prompt: _Temptation_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 _Far Too Young To Die_

It was a long time coming, this spiral into the darkness. If Harry was honest with himself, he wasn't _entirely_ consumed by the darkness. No, but he _was_ enamored by it. Ever since the Sorting Hat had considered placing him in Slytherin, the niggling little thought of darkness was planted in his mind. Over the years, it grew and grew until he was no longer able to hold those dark thoughts at bay. He would stare at the scar etched into his forehead for _hours_ on end, contemplating the darkness that helped to create it. His fingertip tracing its jagged formation, green eyes envisioned what it might feel like to cast the killing curse.

And that was how he found him.

One night, Draco wandered into the same bathroom he was occupying and found him staring at his morose expression. The smirk that laced his lips was unnerving, and even annoying. He'd never understand. Darkness was a part of _him_. He'd been ensconced in the darkness since he was a child. Draco _radiated_ darkness. It was all he knew. So when Draco taunted him, saying how _he always knew Saint Potter liked to ogle himself in the mirror_ , he said nothing in return. Not at first, at least. Not until he was _provoked_.

Oh how delightful it was. He turned, fury making his green eyes flash as he drew his wand and leveled it at the blond-haired git before him. Draco was prepared for such a turn of events, his wand already pointed at Harry. Draco continued to throw insult after insult at Harry, never noticing the way the boy's hands slowly steadied themselves as he thought about his next course of action. Surely, a simple _stupefy_ would suffice, but—but there was _another_ spell he wanted to try. It was one he'd read in his Potions textbook, courtesy of the Half-blood Prince.

So as the duel got under way, Harry waited; the dark spell whispering through his thoughts to the point of distraction. He knew he should avoid it at all costs, what with him being the Chosen One. The one who would save them all from the Dark Lord himself. But as Draco pushed him into a corner, the Dark spell slipped from his lips without a second thought. _Sectumsempra!_ The curse sliced into Draco with such force, he was thrown to the floor. Harry moved to stand overtop his bleeding form, watching as the seeping gashes ruined his white oxford shirt.

Draco was dying, and it was all his fault. There was no way to take back the spell, and he knew not the counter curse. He'd been tempted by the darkness, and it was going to win. It would be a horrible tragedy—Draco was far too young to die! Already he could feel a coldness coating his heart, or was that all in his mind? Stepping away, he was relieved when Snape entered the demolished loo and proceeded to repair the damage he'd done to Draco. He was ushered from the room, but the image of his slip in judgement was seared into his brain.

The worst part?

Harry wanted more of the darkness.

It was obscenely quiet in the Infirmary wing, the silence weighing heavily on Draco. He lay flat on his back, eyes wide open and unblinking as he stared at the moonlight filtering across the ceiling. The pain in his chest had diminished from a searing pain to a dull throbbing, but his heart was still utterly broken. Swallowing thickly, he let his burning eyes slide shut, refusing to let the tears escape. Malfoys did not cry. Malfoys didn't let their hearts get broken. And Malfoys most _certainly_ did not fall in love with Harry Potter. At least, that's what Draco kept telling himself, as his right hand came up to rest gently overtop the bandages covering his wounds. When had he even fallen in love with Potter? He supposed it happened slowly, his desire to hate him changing into something more pure and light. It morphed into the sort of temptation one couldn't help but give into.

 _Why_ had he been tempted to seek out Potter's attention tonight in such a negative way? _Why_ had he followed him into that bathroom knowing it would only end in ruin? It was _maddening_. Ever since he was a first year, and Harry managed to best the Dark Lord, Draco wondered what that would be like. What would feel like to be on the _light_ side? To be good. To be seen as the hero rather than the villain for once. Especially after second year, when many thought _he_ was the heir of Slytherin, he'd wanted nothing more than a chance to fight for the light. He wasn't truly cut out for the darkness. He didn't want to kill…he didn't want to hurt people.

Least of all Harry.

With a sigh, Draco traced a finger overtop his bandages. Whatever Dark curse Harry used against him would leave a wretched scar, and nothing Madame Pomfrey could do would change that. It wasn't his vanity that made his heart ache over the fact that Harry had cursed him. Instead, it was that it was _Harry_. He was supposed to represent all things light. The good of their world. He was the Chosen One, the one that would vanquish the Dark Lord. What happened to him?

Trying to relax, Draco threw his forearm over his eyes and attempted to push away his hurt feelings in order to get some rest. He had a task to take care of, after all. Dumbledore wasn't going to kill himself. Snorting decisively, Draco _almost_ wished Harry had been successful in his attempt to thwart him. He didn't want to kill the Headmaster. He wanted to escape this place, maybe run away and seek refuge with the Order. He was tempted, even now, to do just that. He couldn't, though, or his parents would be killed. At least he could do that for them. Keeping his word so his parents were not brutally murdered by a madman was the best he could do for now. One tiny attempt at being good…even if it was a bit twisted.

Groaning, Draco mumbled aloud to himself, "Just go to sleep, Draco."

"They say talking to yourself is the first sign you've lost it," a voice pointed out, causing Draco to bolt upright in the bed. His right hand sought out his wand while the other clutched at his stinging wounds. Before he could ask who was there, Harry Potter shimmered into view, clearly having been hiding under his rumored invisibility cloak.

"Potter," he hissed, glancing around to make sure they were entirely alone, "what in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"I came to see if you were alright," Harry admitted, running a hand through his messy hair, his green eyes darting away shamefully.

"Come to finish the job?" Draco questioned with narrowed eyes.

Anger flashed across Harry's face as he refocused on the blond. "No, but don't tempt me."

"I never would take the Great Harry Potter as a murderer," he admitted, crossing his arms across his chest in an attempt to appear calculating, but also to protect his wounds. "Been allowing the Dark Lord play with your mind again?"

"How do you—"

"Never mind, I hear plenty from my father that he should keep to himself," came Draco's whispered explanation, flicking his head to get the fringe out of his eyes. "Back to the matter at hand—what was that curse you used against me?" Draco couldn't help but be a little curious; after all, it might come in useful in the near future.

Shuffling his feet, Harry shrugged his shoulders once before moving to sit at the foot of the bed. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I found it in an old book…there wasn't much information besides stating it was for enemies." Slowly, he met Draco's piercing grey eyes, regret making it hard to breathe. "I guess…I'm sorry."

There was something else in Harry's gaze, but Draco shrugged it off. He'd deal with whatever it was later. "I've never really given you much reason to believe I was anything but. An enemy, I mean." Sitting up straighter on the bed, he indicated for Harry to make himself more comfortable. Taking the invitation, Harry spread out so that their legs were situated alongside one another. "One could say, I instigated the entire ordeal."

"I won't deny that," Harry laughed, before becoming serious once more. "Look Malfoy…I was wondering…would you be willing to teach me more about the Dark Arts. Using them. I—I want to be prepared for when I have to face Voldemort."

"Well," Draco murmured, ignoring Harry's blatant use of the Dark Lord's full name, "I never really thought that you would come here tonight." He gestured between them, before continuing, "And I _certainly_ , never expected you to come here and ask me to help you learn Dark magic." He almost felt disappointed. _Almost_. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think that by teaching Harry, he would be allowed more time in his presence. It was a tempting offer. He weighed his options quickly, already seeing uncertainty making Harry fidget. Swallowing, he nodded once and then gave his answer. "You've got a deal, Potter."

He held out his hand like he'd done back in first year, and this time, Harry took it. They shook quickly, but as it ended, both found they didn't quite want to let go. Both boys' eyes flickered from their connected hands to stare at one another. Draco inhaled sharply at the intensity of Harry's emerald gaze; it was unwavering, and full of an unknown desire. Harry was the first to pull back, his fingers grazing Draco's palm as he moved to stand from the bed. Draco shivered, watching in silence as he pulled the invisibility cloak around his shoulders once more, making his head appear to levitate.

"When you're well enough, we'll meet in the Room of Requirement," Harry told him. Draco could do nothing but nod at the boy. Then, his head disappeared as well and Draco was left alone to his own thoughts. Was teaching the Boy Who Lived Dark magic worth the chance at fighting for the light side, or was he making a grave mistake? Right now, Draco had no idea, but whatever price there was to pay, he decided it would be worth it if Harry looked at him again like he had mere minutes before.

True to his word, as soon as he was well enough, Draco began meeting Harry in the Room of Requirement to practice the Dark Arts. He had to think very carefully beforehand so that they didn't end up interfering with his work on the Vanishing Cabinet, but so far; Harry didn't suspect a thing. The end of the year was looming closer, and with it, the end of his task. There would be little time to help Harry before he killed Dumbledore and was forced to go on the run. That meant using his time wisely. It also meant he and Harry were spending nearly every spare minute they had together.

Draco wasn't complaining.

With each day they grew closer to one another, the bitterness and hate fading away until it was like they were almost _friends_. Harry learned the Dark Arts easily, the curses and spells taking minimal practice before he mastered them. It was awe-inspiring, if not a bit worrisome. He took well to the Unforgiveables—able to cast them all perfectly after just a few practice tries. Pride made Draco's heart swell, but worry settled heavy in his gut. He wasn't entirely sure Harry had the truest of intentions when it came to learning these spells. Nevertheless, he continued his lessons.

Eventually, he asked for repayment.

In return for his help, he'd asked Harry to assist him in conjuring a _Patronus_ ; although, he'd not had much luck. Nonetheless, it was a step in the right direction for him. Maybe he wouldn't have to go through with killing Dumbledore if Harry was on his side. It was this thought that probably led Draco to so do something rash one evening.

He'd been coaching Harry through the task of mastering the Killing Curse when he'd noticed himself rather enjoying the flush to Harry's skin. And the way he bit his lip in concentration before sending the green light towards the field mice they'd captured. It made something pull in his chest, a feeling he was unfamiliar with taking hold of his senses. Without thinking, he'd walked across the room and taken hold of Harry's arm. Before he could even utter a single word, Draco captured his lips in a heated kiss, stealing the breath from the Boy Who Lived.

The kiss went on for what felt like an eternity, Harry giving in just as much as he was. Hands fisted in hair, tugging and pulling at uniforms in an effort to reach more skin. Draco never imagined in his wildest dreams that Harry may want to kiss him in return, yet here he was, just as eager as he was. All too soon, in Draco's opinion, their kiss came to an end. They stood together, their breath mingling between them as reality settled back around them.

"I have to go with Dumbledore tomorrow," Harry whispered, his fingers carding through the hair at the nape of Draco's neck. "I may not return." Instead of answering, Draco merely nodded, swallowing hard. Tomorrow was the day he had to use the Vanishing Cabinet. This would be their last night together. Afraid to ruin the moment with too many words, Draco gave Harry one more kiss before backing away. He was surprised to see fear in the green eyes he adored so much.

"Good luck then, Potter. We'll meet up again once you return," he lied with a smirk. Then, Draco turned and left, already knowing it may be the last he saw Harry for quite some time. It appeared, for now at least, their temptations would have to wait for a while.

Quietly, Harry moved through the Forbidden Forest, his fate now inevitable. The Resurrection Stone lay lost forever in the dirt behind him, the ghosts of the ones he loved still haunting him although he could no longer see their apparitions. He knew he was getting close now; his scar tingled more and more with each step he took. Pausing, more to calm his nerves than anything else, Harry briefly closed his eyes, imagining grey ones. Draco…he'd wanted so desperately to be a part of the light, but he was off fighting for the darkness.

It wasn't fair.

None of this was fair.

They were far too young to be fighting in this war… _dying_ in this war.

Opening his eyes, Harry was just about to move forward when there was a rustling to his left. He pointed his wand, eyes going wide as Draco tumbled into the clearing. "Malfoy?" He questioned, his voice coming out barely above a whisper so as not to call attention to them. "What the bloody hell are you doing out here?" He was afraid it was another specter and that his anxiety was now playing with his mind.

Draco ran to him, his hands coming to rest on Harry's shoulders. As his pale fingers dug painfully into his frail body, Harry knew he was not imagining things.

"I know what you're about to do, Potter, and I couldn't let you go alone."

Relief fluttered in Harry's chest at that reply. Without thinking, he captured Draco's lips like he had done in the past. It was one last kiss before they both had to deal with whatever fate had in store for them, temptations be damned. Their respite was short lived, however, as the sound of a cracking tree branch startling them into action.

"How completely _disgusting_ ," Voldemort spat, stepping into the clearing. Harry and Draco sprang apart, wands at the ready. "I warned your idiot father that you were a traitorous waste, but he begged me to keep you alive." Circling with calculating steps, the Dark Lord continued to taunt the pair, a sinister look upon his face. "I can repair this misjudgment easily enough. _Avada Kedavra!_ "

The green light flew through the air towards Harry, the seconds slowing down as his fate finally caught up with him. Panic-stricken, Draco shoved Harry out of the way, taking the full force of the curse. "No!" Screamed Harry, watching in horror as Draco fell, lifeless, to the ground before his feet. As the light drained from Draco's grey eyes, Harry began to feel dead inside. Shaking, he glared at the Dark Lord. "You _killed_ him."

"Sentiment," Voldemort said with a sneer before lifting his blood-red eyes to meet devastated green. "Come now, Harry—let us finish what we've started." He raised his wand, the Killing Curse suddenly streaking through the space between them.

Harry didn't even have time to properly grieve before the spell was cast. With one last, remorse-filled glance at Draco's body, Harry accepted his fate. He didn't even bother to close his eyes as the green light barreled into his chest. His last thought was of Draco and how he wished he'd never been tempted by the darkness. If he'd never asked Draco for help…he would still be alive. They might _both_ still be alive. They were far too young to die, in his opinion, but it was too late to do anything about that now.


End file.
